The Bloody City (13 page)

“Yes, Little Red. Why would the Big Bad Wolf hide in Grandma’s nightgown?” He rolled his head against the wall to look at her. “Think hard, now.”

June’s stomach sank. “He… He wanted to do it himself…”

Occam gave her a thumbs-up. “Robbie wants the Institute to crumble, but on his terms. He doesn’t want to be Sam’s minion, or even his partner. Robbie wants to be in charge. He wants to run the Paranormal Alliance the way it should be run—according to him.”

“And we’ve seen how Robbie takes care of business.”

“So we have.”

“He thought keeping information from Sam gave him an advantage?”

“And it did, didn’t it?” He sounded reverent, impressed, the way a psycho might be impressed with Hitler’s military skill. “Robbie was the perfect snake in the grass: unobtrusive, outwardly loyal, a good little lapdog. He let Sam have his crumbs, so he wouldn’t suspect what was really going on, and they were things that would help Robbie in his quest too. He’s also physically powerful. His power makes him very, very dangerous.”

“But I hear it’s killing him. He won’t be able to run things forever.”

“A man like that has a contingency plan.” Occam sat forward. “Robbie’s real downfall, if he isn’t careful, will be his insanity and zealousness. Sam may be adamant and a bit off his rocker, but he never used violence and schemes like killing his own kind to get what he wanted. Sad, because I would have enjoyed watching that. If Sam wants to bring him down, he’ll have to be as crazy as he is. Crazy people are dangerous. Crazy people don’t care. Sam has to stop caring.”

Occam was quite articulate. Having a conversation with him might actually be pleasant, if he wasn’t himself.

“How do you even know all this?” June asked.

“Vampires observe. It’s what we do. Observe, and listen, and spy, and laugh at the way people throw themselves on the fire. That’s precisely the reason we don’t get involved, unless it benefits us. But knowledge is power. We have so, so much to hold over your stupid little heads.”

“Do you know where Robbie is right now?”

“Perhaps.”

“You should tell Sam.”

“I don’t owe Sam anything.” He slid down the bench, closer to her. “And what good would the knowledge do him? He’s not hiding from Robbie right now.”

She subtly recoiled. “You know about Sam’s brother, Thomas? How he was killed?”

“Oh, yes. Vampires executed his murderers. Kevin Kramer paid blood and money for that hit. He didn’t pay enough for silence. But Aaron Jenkins did. We’re still benefitting from his annual payments. We don’t get involved in your politics, but we like your dollars.”

“I was told four men were involved in the murder, but only three were killed.” She paused. “Was Robbie the fourth man?”

Occam chuckled and got to his feet.

“I wasn’t involved in that situation. I had my own concerns at the time, climbing my way up the vampire ladder, so to speak.”

He walked over and stopped in front of her. She gazed up at him, tense. He reached out and clamped his hand on her shoulder, and she cringed.

“Why didn’t they kill Robbie?” she asked.

Occam delved into his shirt pocket. “You presume too much, Little Red.” He held something out to her. “A gift.”

She narrowed her eyes at the object in his hand: a tube with a stopper in the end, filled with a dark red fluid, like blood.

“What’s this?”

“Something to soothe over any bad feelings. I want you to like me, June.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“I promise it’s very useful. It’s only the base, though. It needs a special ingredient to work.”

She continued eyeing the tube. “What is it?”

Occam waved it in front of her face, back and forth, as if trying to hypnotize her. “It’s one of the key components for a special brew we like to call the Oracle of the Dead.”

She shrank back. “I don’t want that.”

“You may have need of it, someday. Although, as I said, it’s not activated. The Oracle of the Dead is made from vampire blood, but it takes another kind of blood to make it work—the blood of a powerful paranormal human.”

She didn’t take it. She wanted to fling his hand off her shoulder, where he was still resting it casually.

“Three drops.” He turned the tube over, making the blood gurgle down. “It has to come from someone with significant power, like Kevin’s grandmother had. Like Robbie has.” He tapped the glass. “Of course, Kevin’s grandmother was sleeping with a vampire.”

“I don’t ever want to see that thing in action again.”

Occam released her shoulder and grabbed her hand. He plunked the tube in her palm and wrapped her fingers around it. The glass was cold.

He leaned down, so close his scent, noxious and offensive, invaded her nostrils. “You might need it,” he whispered. “From me to you, darling.”

She snatched her hand out of his grip.

Occam stood upright. He adjusted his sunglasses and hat. “I must be off, before I’m too weak to function. Wouldn’t want you to have that great an advantage. It was nice talking about you.”

“We didn’t talk about me at all…”

Occam vanished. The door to the building hadn’t opened, neither had the gate in the fence, but he was suddenly no longer in the courtyard. He’d either disappeared into thin air or vaulted the fence, somehow without her even seeing him move. Her skin crawled.

She held up the tube, fighting the urge to smash it on the concrete.

“Thanks a lot,” she muttered. “Happy birthday to me.”

* * * *

June opened the door to the room she and Micha had slept in, hoping to hide out where vampires couldn’t find her, and nearly jumped out of her skin. A little white figure sat on the bed.

“Damn it, Muse.” June quickly closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

Muse quirked an eyebrow. “You called out to me.”

“So you
were
around.”

“Of course. Sam has me watching over you.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Maybe I’m a ghost.”

June cringed. Her mind flew to Rose lurking in the hallway.

“You saw Rose?” Muse perked and scooted over. “Sit.” She patted the bed.

June walked over and sat down beside her. “I don’t know what she wants.”

“What all ghosts want, I’m sure. To be understood. In her case, avenged.”

“If she deserves vengeance.” June sighed heavily. “Nothing is happening. Micha is just going through tests. I told you that in my head message.”

“I know. I thought you might like to know what’s going on back at the house.”

June perked up. The corner of Muse’s mouth jerked and then her eye.

“Diego took your brother home,” Muse said.

June nearly melted in relief. She nearly burst into tears.

“Thank fucking God.” She rubbed her face. “If they can get Mom to go into hiding with them, I’ll feel even better.”

“They weren’t very happy with you. Not at all.”

“I don’t figure. Jason can be really hardheaded, but I know his weak spot. He’ll do anything for Mom.”

“Very clever of you.”

“It’s better this way. Now Jason is one less thing I have to worry about.”

“You could have left with them, you know. Sam wanted you to.”

“I know.” She stood, too full of nervous energy to sit still. “I know what Sam wants, but he doesn’t always know what’s good for him. I think there’s more I can do here. Isn’t that why he helped me in the first place? So I could help him?”

“You were supposed to be a peaceful way to plead his case to the masses. I don’t think that’s going to happen now.” Muse’s face was placid. “You’re too wrapped up in things here, aren’t you? Wrapped up in emotions?”

June turned away. “I care about people here, yes, if that’s what you’re trying to force out of me.”

“Nothing wrong with caring.”

“Nothing wrong with not caring, either. People seem to forget that.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“Occam visited you,” Muse said. “I see him in your head.”

“Yes. So eager to talk to me he came out in daylight.”

“Element of surprise.” She snorted. “Vampires like that. He gave you something?”

June opened her hand. She turned around and held the tube up. “He said it’s just the base.”

Muse’s face was now marred by random twitches. Her hands jerked in her lap.

“I saw this used, once,” June said. “I don’t want to use it. There’s nothing I want to ask a dead person.”

“Only family members can make inquiries about each other. It’s a very blood-based bit of magic. So unless there’s something you desperately need to know about a family member, it’s of no use to you.”

“Then why’d he give it to me? Why does he think I’d need an oracle?” She furrowed her brow. Rose’s words seemed to whisper in her ears again.
It’s not meant for you.

Muse opened her mouth, but suddenly, a loud ringing filled the air. June started and nearly dropped the tube. Muse jumped to her feet.

“Fire alarm?” Muse yelled over the noise.

“We better hope!” June dashed to the door.

Was it a burglar alarm? Had Muse tripped it? Probably not. Burglar alarms weren’t generally armed during business hours, and it would have gone off as soon as she entered, anyway.

“Get out of here,” June told her. “Before someone sees you.”

June left the room and rushed down the hallway. Gray smoke billowed from a doorway at the other end. People were yelling. A man had a fire extinguisher. He ducked under the roiling cloud of smoke and sprayed white foam through the doorway.

The acrid scent of burning plastic filled the air, and she clapped a hand over her mouth and nose as she approached the room.

Inside the doorway, Micha sat on the floor, slumped over with his head in his hands. Trina bent over him, coughing and waving the smoke away.

“Micha!” June ducked under the smoke and knelt beside him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“He’s all right,” Trina said. “I don’t think he’s hurt.”

Micha lifted his head. He was pale, his expression both stricken and angry. His eyes glistened.

“I couldn’t control it,” he said. “I couldn’t stop it—” He coughed as the smoke wafted over them.

“Let’s get out of here.” Trina tugged at Micha’s arm. “Come on.”

Micha got to his feet, June helping him as well, and they walked to the waiting room. No one was around and all the doors were open. They’d evacuated the clinic.

“We can’t let anyone see him,” Trina said. “Or you. We’ll stay right here until it’s safe to take you back to your room.”

Micha sat down in a chair.

“What happened?” June asked.

“The same thing that happened in the penthouse,” Micha said, “when I burned your arm. It got out of control. I couldn’t stop it.”

“Pyrokinesis.” Trina sounded awed. “Very rare. More rare than aural captivation.”

June ignored her and sat down next to Micha. “It’s all right. You didn’t mean to do it.”

Micha dropped his head in his hands again. “I can’t take this anymore.”

June reached out and rubbed his knee.

“I’ll get you some water,” Trina said. “If anyone comes in, go back to your room so you aren’t seen.”

She left, and June continued rubbing Micha’s leg. Smoke drifted from the hallway. Approaching sirens filtered in from outside. Micha tensed and she stopped rubbing.

“We better go hide our shameful selves.” She sighed and stood up. “Since we’re obviously the bad guys here.”

The next day June accompanied Micha to all his tests and kept a close eye on him, in case one of his powers got out of hand again. The researchers didn’t have too many more hoops for him to jump through, however, and shortly after noon, Trina informed them they were done testing him.

“So how do we get out of here?” June asked. “Should we just hop on a bus? Call a cab?”

“I’m supposed to call Occam after sunset. He’ll come get you.”

“Great. I’d rather take my chances out in public.”

The rest of the day was long and boring. June sent out mind messages, in case Muse still lurked nearby. They watched TV, ate food they were given, and she eventually convinced Micha to go out into the courtyard with her. He glowered at the sunlight, sitting slumped on a bench. She couldn’t blame him for being despondent. She was mad enough to resent the weather as well.

As evening fell, the tension built while they waited for their vampire taxi.

Micha wanted to sleep, saying he felt weak after having so much blood drawn. June suspected he just wanted to hide, but she left him in their room and went to watch TV again. She wished she had Cindy’s laptop so she could read her favorite blogger, the one who continued to insist Micha had been kidnapped by the CIA. She’d commented on his posts a few times, not to correct, but to fuel his paranoia.

She kept sending out a message:
The tests are over. Occam is coming to get us. Get here first so the creepy bastard doesn’t take us home with him and touch us inappropriately.

She eventually couldn’t sit still any longer. She walked down the hallway, heading back to their room. The light coming through the door to the courtyard, at the end of the hallway, was murky blue. Maybe Trina was out having a cigarette. June could say good-bye to her and inhale her second hand smoke one last time.

Her new scientist friend wasn’t outside, though. A door to June’s right opened and Trina stepped out.

“Hey,” June said. “Just the smart broad I was looking for.”

Trina’s eyes were wide behind her glasses. She clutched a folder.

June’s stomach did a flip. “What?”

“We got some of Micha’s test results back.”

“Oh, God. Should I sit down for this?”

“What the hell is he?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Where did he come from?”

June raised her eyebrows. “His mother’s uterus? And as far as I know, he’s a man. Why, did you find alien DNA?”

Trina brandished the folder at her. “He’s got multiple paranormal hormones and the receptors for them. Four individual kinds we’ve isolated so far.”

“Yeah, I kinda knew that.”

Trina took a step back.

June shrugged, not sure what else to say, what she could say. “That’s kinda why he’s here.”